If ever in your wildest nightmares -- er, dreams -- you should
encounter a bottle similar to the one on the left, I advise you to
waste no time whatsoever in leaving the area where you found it. Should this
prove impossible, then rest assured that the bottle in question was
sent for you, and you alone -- and when it is time, there is but ONE
thing left for you to do.

In the old and dead tongue called
Latin, this action was named 'Hic Bibitur'. If I recall correctly, it
means 'Drink up'.

It is the same way with the series of
books that shall begin showing here. My hope is that they may one day
be published, and thereby, I might be able to pay my debts -- and,
perchance, earn a living. I've lived far too long on borrowed
time and sweat as it is, and that by necessity.

Click on the chapter
headings to read the chapter in question. The beginnings of each
chapter reside nearby, so as to give you something of a taste regarding
the world you are about to enter.

Chapter
1 In the beginning was the bottle Fall was the chilling
time, with the heat of summer leaving like an accursed thief, and the
rain foretelling its coming descent by the sullen gray roiled clouds
overhead and marbled dampness of the pavement below.

Where I worked, however, was always
chilling in its labyrinthine ways, and once my meeting had finished,
I hurried...

Chapter
3: A strange and new land, continued. As we walked further
toward the end of town, I discerned a lack of people in the houses I was
passing. Faintly on the gentle wind, I could smell an accumulation of horses,
and a few minutes later, I could see them -- all of them clustered in a huge yard in
front of an even larger single-story building set by itself at the
end of town.

Chapter
4: Witches? I hope not... I had been afraid to go to church
in that old hell, for fear of rejection. Here, so far, that manifestation of hatred had
been absent, and there were a pair of people who seemed to like me.
The next morning -- Sunday -- I had but two sets of clothing, one
of which was in tatters, and another which fit badly...

Chapter
6: Witches? I hope not... (part c) I had no
idea as to how to respond to Albrecht, both as to his apparent
knowledge and his seeming attitude, and my feeling 'lost' was such
that I felt as if I no longer knew how to speak...

Chapter
11: Do they have coal mines up here? continued. We stopped
at the first town on our route home to service the buggy, and while I wondered
about grain, the steadily dropping sun made for wonderment, so much so that
before I got in the buggy after the first stop, I took out the needle and
adjusted the thread.

Chapter 15: Where the problem's a nail, one wants a hammer
I thought to feel the nail-sack carefully, and found
there to be a few nails remaining in it. I picked out one of the odd
things - mottled blue-black finish, roughly square cross-section,
slightly tapering to the blunt-seeming point, and a lumpy head -
and tried bending it.

"He was right," said Hans, "and
we got there none too soon. That witch showed after we fetched out
the first of those things, and then he rigged the front door and we
went out into the back area of the place."

Chapter
20: Black-Cap gets his gun. Once inside, I laid out the
rifle on the workbench, and began to clean it thoroughly. I soon had Hans
watching me, and as I slipped off the three barrel bands, he whistled again.

"That is a lot faster than with those
pins," he said. "Now how does the lock come off?"

Chapter
21: Festival Week I came to myself walking with two beings
at my sides, with one of them holding my arm as if guiding the blind.

Chapter 4: Strange, beautiful... What? I vaguely recalled
the taste of the widow's tincture, only this was vastly stronger, and when I
looked at Hans through bleary eyes, I asked, "what was that I just drank?"

Chapter 10: The Big House, part 5. The rest of the class
came in minutes later, and as I stood thinking, I noticed that several of them
seemed to have faint chalk-marks on their clothing.

Chapter 11: The Big House, part 6. The two wicker baskets
in the corner of the basement were topped by a thick bundle of what seemed at
first to be rags, and as I knelt to feel the bundle, I asked, "why would I
want the sword of a witch?"

Comment: no, you do not want a cursed sword, especially when it's not
nearly as good as the ones you will shortly make. Witches, however,
will think such blades cursed indeed. Hint, hint...

Here, we see the inside of the fabled Swartsburg. Trouble is, one,
this ain't no fable, and two, here, we cause trouble, confusion - and act
like a wild Head-Hunter and take a certain witch's
HEAD. Trouble, eh?

Try more like "a walk on the Wild side."

Chapter 17: The Big House, part 12. I continued on
with Koenraad's head through the trees at a steady trot, not stopping until
I had passed the Oestwaag and left it several hundred yards in the rear.

Chapter 18: The Big House, part 13. "They'll start
working on that new forge tomorrow, and I needto..." The recollection of the
effects of trowels upon my mind was enough to induce a headache, and I began
moaning.

Chapter 19: The Big House, part 14 Georg left for
elsewhere minutes later, and I followed him out of the shop shortly
thereafter once I had fitted the handle fully. Once home, I sharpened the
scraper, then began using it.

Chapter 20: The Big House, part 15. That evening,
I fitted up the remaining lock to the fowling piece, and as I stoned and
polished the bearing surfaces, I found I had something of an audience -
in addition to three sets of revolver parts.

Chapter 21: The Big House, part 16: A nocturnal tour of Norden As I began servicing the engine - it needed its
lubricant drained and refilled once disconnected, as well as 'dosing'
here and there - I heard faint screams on the wind, followed by occasional
gunshots. The booms of muskets seemed a counterpoint to all
that I was doing, even if none of them were particularly close.

Oh, my. Norden. No, it isn't from the Kalevala. Never read that
piece of literature, and at the time I wrote this, I'd never read about
it, either.

Even if Ultima Thule could pass for a character out of it, based on what
little I've read about the Finnish national epic since writing this part.

I abruptly awoke from slumber to see darkness still outside the room, and with
a squirming bladder. I went downstairs, used the privy, and then saw the
low-burning wax candle stub in one of the small lanterns.

Chapter 23: The Big House, part 17 - continued Now was the moment, I realized, and I slowly stood
up from my chair. I walked to the left of the table, then slowly walked up
the aisle between the backs of the chairs to my right and the wall to my left.

Chapter 24: The end of the beginning Our long trip
of six stories with three limp-as-wet-dishrag stretcher-born men made for
my stumbling on thestairs and falling face-down to the floor on more than
one landing.

A faster mode of travel ensues here. Trouble is, this is a
Big Black One

Chapter 25: The end of the beginning, continued The
spurts of dung did not cease, even as the mule occasionally assayed galloping,
and its brief grunting spurts of a hundred yards or so seemed to recall the
tale I recalled reading - as the lethargy of the mule vanished then, and its
speed, while not that of a comet, was enough to make for a wide berth on my
part and mumbling on the part of the hostler.

Chapter 27: The end of the beginning, part D Throughout
that day, I labored steadily upon buggy parts, and by noon, I had both of the
arbor shanks and the cutter ready to harden. As I ran the bellows, I wondered
for a moment if I would use the pieces again; and when I saw a shadow in
the doorway, I nearly fell down.

Chapter 3: The road more traveled, part c. Our pace
remained the same boredom-inducing walk as the sun slowly slid to the east
for what seemed an eon, and only when we came upon the long narrow fields
that surrounded a town did I 'wake up' and come to myself.

Time to get medieval regarding punishing people. Ever hear of 'drawing
and quartering'? This goes a bit further, at least regarding 'talk' of the
matter. Note: I got this out of a book few think to look in for such material,
but it is mentioned in there. It's a parable about a certain king and what he
did with those who did not wish him to be king over them.

Note: the protagonist actually has done this before with a certain evil
witch, as in "cut to pieces, bagged up, hung, labeled, and his head spiked on a
pole. Take it down before it falls of its own accord, those doing so get the exact same
treatment." (which actually happens)

That's called an object lesson, with the witch being the object and his
dismembered body and the placard being the lesson. Smelly, gross,
and effective. Get used to that last word. EFFECTIVE

Very trippy here. A witch dead for a generation's time, and he's still
out in the hall rubbing his sword with accursed 'red tallow', feeding his
blade with blood. No, no Michael Moorcock here. I'd not read about that
blond fellow with the accursed sword when I wrote this portion. Besides,
what I know about swords having curses on them goes back a lot further.

It goes about a talk I had with 'Norman' - a fellow from Hawaii who looked
a little like Bruce Lee and could definitely do Bruce Lee moves
in real life - as in he was trained from the time he was a toddler in oriental
Martial Arts and had a high-ranking black belt in something. It was high up
enough that there was a lot of spiritual stuff involved, including the
drinking of blood . I know, as I helped out with the, uh, exorcism
. Nasty bit of business, and Norman was tasting blood in his mouth
afterward.

After nineteen months in that environment, I do not need to see the
Exorcist. I lived in a real-life version thereof, complete
with people getting tossed, getting chased by spooks while cleaning
a church, smelling pipes when no one was smoking - oh, and doing some
more exorcisms. Blaine didn't much care for his when I spoke of
his father's 'brass idol'. Blaine's father was an engineer.

You'll hear more about 'BLAINE' later. He tends to do engineering
things, including TRAINS . Watch out for those Blaine-engineered
trains. They tend to go off the rails.

Chapter 18: The road more traveled, part r. At the next
stop for water, a postal buggy rolled past at a trot, and once out of the
woodlot's shade, I began looking ahead closely for one of the mentioned
turnoffs. I could feel a pair of such roads but a short distance ahead,
and with the passing minutes, I noted more and more the warmth, the humidity,
and the aspect of industry. That had increased steadily with our travel south,
and the sounds of labor came from every farmstead that we passed.

Expect more weirdness here. It never stops getting weirder. Is it weird
enough for me?

Chapter 23: The road more traveled, part w. The waiter's
return some twenty minutes later with
the first of our dishes surprised me, both at the quick service and also the
nature of the food itself. This last was ample as to quantity, plain as to
palate, and overall, quite edible. After half of a bowl of soup, I asked
as to the nature of the meat.

Chapter 32: The fifth kingdom's mess, part e.
The narrowness of the river's passage - perhaps twenty
feet wide at the most, with most sections half that - and its tall brushy banks
seemed to provide a haven of peace amid the sounds and smells of the city.

This would have done Xenophon proud. Getting home in front of a
Great-Find-Crush-Kill (the rough translation of 'Grossfahndung' when
spoken in Underworld German) when you have every witch able to do that
business engaged in trying to find and kill you isn't easy.

Chapter 40: The road's ending, part d. I fell asleep
once I'd eaten, and when I awoke it was nearly dark. For some peculiar
reason, Lys awoke within seconds after I had
done so, and softly called, "Gisela. It is time."

If we are going to have a future worth living in, sometimes we have to
walk in hell first. You have been warned again. Tread carefully here.

Chapter 1: Nightmare convoy - or is it only a night-time sojourn into
hell?
While we were within easy distance of home, there was
still travel that needed us doing it; and with each mile upon our
current road, I noticed my fatigue more and more. Drinking beer helped but
little, even when I could recall the need to do so; and when the High Way
itself came closer, I wondered if it were going to sweep over us like a
tidal wave and then crush us down into darkness.

Chapter 5:Another stinky witch.
On the other side of my 'favorite' anvil, Hans was
standing and staring at what looked like the ruins of an 'idol' distillery,
and as I knelt down to look at the dented and torn metal, he began muttering.

Chapter 7: A Realm in Flames
I had had sufficient of witches for the evening, so much so that I remounted
as soon as I could do so with the though of returning the way I came. I
felt an 'itch', however; one that spoke of that being 'the expected
thing', and I doubled back upon hearing something that I wondered greatly about.

Chapter 8: It is nice to have a home.
The noise of the Swartsburg continued to beat upon my body as I jogged
amid the cattle-herd, and as I passed the inner wall of the northwest gate
itself, 'scales' seemed to fall from my ears and my hearing returned
amid a steady high-pitched squalling chorus.

Chapter 9: "Wake up!"
As the minutes and miles passed, however, I wondered just what I needed
to learn from the charred and smoking wasteland that had appeared with such
stunning suddenness. This state of mind persisted as we went across
fields and around woodlots, and the constant muttering of gunfire from all points
of the compass seemed a harbinger of a long-awaited and longer-planned
war. I felt a town some distance to the east and north, and thought to ask about
it.

Chapter 10:In Circled Fire...
The first of the townspeople showed about an hour after I had found the first of the
'medals' within the shop. The last medal - an old-looking
piece that actually glowed slightly - was buried next to an
anvil-stump with the ground carefully brushed around so as to not
show digging; I had needed to find it by feel. I was rooting it out
with my knife when the shadow of a man showed itself in the doorway,
and I was glad Hans was near the front of the shop so as to give me
'cover' while I first uncovered and then retrieved the too-obvious
fetish. It felt horrible to touch, and I was glad for a pair of
tongs so as to handle its too-potent evil.

Chapter 11:Getting the Fear
I resumed my exploration of the house after the end of my shift
once I had 'given my charge' to the two men taking over. Sarah
had left about an hour before the end of my shift with the
promise to find a suitable bludgeon for rats, while Mathias
wobbled off to the refectory in a state of complete exhaustion at the
end of our time. Between being new to the job and being around two
of the archest 'old hares' - he called Sarah that once, and her
glare only cemented his opinion of her - he had yet encountered, I
could well comprehend his fatigue.

Chapter 12:Deep Dark Plotted Plans
Our road joined another as the remains of the town hove into view among
the gathering dusk, and as Maarten's house showed, I turned to see a
horse and rider 'trotting' toward us from the south. It was Gabriel,
and when he came even with the two of us, Sarah said sharply, "now you
know the why of that message."

Chapter 13:In Circled Fire...Part two.
I continued grinding and 'sifting' for perhaps half an hour, during which time
Hans and Sarah continued to arrange the 'equipment' in a definite
orderly fashion, such that the 'steps' of the process were becoming
obvious to me and the 'product' would move in a line from start to
finish, while each step would use its singularly dedicated tools. My
'ground glass' - I was surprised at the small amount actually
needed; Hans said I did enough for a year's worth of thimbles -
went in a bandage tin tied with dark brown string so as to identify
it, and as I went upstairs to gather my things for the afternoon's
ride, I noticed I needed to hurry.

Chapter 14: "This is not the privy..."
The noise and confusion that grew rapidly spoke of a now-awakened house,
and as the three of us slowly stood - I was not the only one face-down
upon the floor; Sarah and Andreas had followed my example - I could see
doorways opening and lights appearing in darkened 'hollows' both ahead and behind.

Chapter 15:"More Fetishes. Lovely."
In my dreams - they were most uneasy, almost as if I were visiting
Franz' world of overly large garbage bugs and assaying becoming one,
there to die due to an infection caused by an angrily-tossed apple
- I 'acquired' some intimations regarding exploring the lately-vacated
house; and when I awoke, I was softly speaking words which I did not understand.

Chapter 16: "Nitro..?"
While Hans ground up a supply of the bark, Anna made ready for an
extended stay at the king's house; and when both of them left in the buggy,
the irons went with them. Somehow, I had the impression that their
stay would not be overly long.

Chapter 17: "Nitro..?" continued.
Hans took up both mortar and pestle when I finished, and within moments,
the soft moans subsided into silence. As I looked around for what I
might need to make 'nitro', Hans came back down.

Chapter 18:"Nitro..?" part C
I came home about an hour before lunch, and at the table while eating,
I was stifling yawns. Accordingly, I went up to bed afterward; and when I came down the
stairs., the odor of 'dinner' said I'd slept the afternoon away, and
sundown wasn't far off. Dinner was 'soon'.

Chapter 19:"That is not Vlai..."
I strained the sawdust out of the murky 'mud' that had accumulated, and as I swirled
it in a crock with rain-water, I noted its near-snowy color. Two
rinsings, both of which went in the container having the lye and
'mud' mixture, and I noted the following:

Chapter 21:A Riveting business - continued.
Our visitor was Gilbertus, and while I wondered if he was staying the night,
Hans soon corrected my wondering by saying he would be sleeping on the couch.
He was rubbing his posterior more than a little.

Chapter 22: My name is not Finnegan...
That night was a late one, and in the morning, faint creaking noises within
my mind seemed to mingle with the scrapings of trowels and other matters
involving bricklaying coming faintly from the south. Hans was missing
when I tried to find him, and as I went for a second circling of house and
property, Anna intercepted me.

Chapter 24: The sun rose at midnight..
We kept a late night that night, with Hans going upstairs while we loaded
the remaining two jugs, then he returned once the fumes had cleared out to
help with tying on the dynamite. Again, Sarah and I had to hold the stuff
in place while our hands became tormentingly sticky from the tarry string
Hans used with such abandon, and again, Hans seemed to not mind.

Chapter 25: Under Siege
"It's in the book, "I said mildly. "Now what Maarten said was how we
needed to be toward those who have declared themselves the enemies of God
and by extension, the enemies of those of us who call God our friend and
helper. Correct?"

Chapter 26: Under Siege, continued
Dinner was a silent matter, even with five people eating slower than usually,
and as the dishes piled in the soaking bucket, I wondered if I would ever see
mealtimes quite the same way again. The parlor, however, was a scene replete
with danger, for there, all the members of the household were checking their
weapons. Tam's weapon surprised me, for his 'musket' was not merely modified
to take 'thimbles', but its form was such that I was looking at what I normally
used in a new light.

Chapter 27: The long-awaited aftermath.
Again, the question remained, even as the black winds of a blazing holocaust
seemed to flow over us and shut out all light for a slow count of three.
They passed, and then, I once more asked:
"Where am I"
"This is Kokenstraat," said a voice to my right that took nearly two seconds
to recognize as that of Hans. "I never ran that far that fast before, and
then this big wind picks me up so that I fly like a bird."

Chapter 28: A new beginning (or so it seems)
That night's sleep - Anna had urged the pain tincture upon me after hearing
my moaning as I moved with slow and aching steps up the stairs, but Hans
spoke of me making a mess in my bed if that was done - was as lacking
in dreams as the afternoon's nap had been filled with them; and when I
creaked and moaned down the stairs in the dawn's early light, I wondered
if today would have my regular work.

Chapter 29: Frankij Lives.
That day passed in a blur of hard sweating labor, for with both bronze and
iron castings, I could actually begin 'machining' - though hammer-and-chisel
labor, followed by files, and in some cases, reamers and drills made for
long-suppressed longings for machinery. I hoped to begin work on a lathe
soon, a real example, not the 'ultra-precise toy' I currently used, and
with each chisel stroke and file cut - that Great Bastard File was earning
its keep now - I kept my eye upon the main issue.

Chapter 30: Frankij Lives, continued.
I left the shop a bit early compared to my usual 'an hour or more after
sundown' leaving time, my shoulder laden fully with a weighty bag of tricks,
and once bathed, I set up at my workbench. There, I would not merely
be turning parts on the lathe, but also making tools; and then, as a
break from those close-working endeavors, I would be dismantling, measuring,
and reassembling the engine. I was suspecting the dirty atmosphere of the
shop was not a suitable environment for a piece of 'precision equipment',
and after dinner, when I began dismantling the engine to check certain fits,
I was astonished at the dirt present as I cleaned out of the thing. The
parts and tools were ready for heat-treating, thankfully. I would not
be able to do that much more that evening, given the engine's need for
total disassembly and cleaning.

Chapter 31: "When it drips, it pours iron"
Our 'last mile' finished, and while Hans 'backed and filled' so as to
get into the buggy-way, I dismounted and went to the front door. I tapped
twice, and stood there waiting until someone came: Sarah. I had a question,
and it recurred to me as I came inside to lay my things on the couch.

Chapter 32: Something Wicked this way Comes...
I was deep into work on the liniment distillery when a shadow came behind
me, and for a moment, as I emerged from the concentration needed to rivet
the cap of the thing, I wondered if I was being visited by 'The
Sand-Man'. I turned around, slowly, achingly - and there saw Sarah,
satchel in hand and that one ledger out and open.

Chapter 33: Something Wicked this way Comes... continued
I sprinted to the end of the hall, then my shoes fought for traction on
the slick floor as I slid sideways halfway to the opposite wall of the
main area while heading toward the south stairwell. This time of day had
full lighting for the regions in use, which meant a wall of flickering
candles shedding light upon me as I ran down the middle of the now
terrifyingly-wide main 'court' or whatever it was actually called. I
turned, then came to the foot of the stairs while still sliding sideways,
then somehow gathered myself and leaped.

NOW IT GETS MESSY

Chapter 34: Something Wicked this way Comes... part three
More, I knew that the eight traitors that the corpse-washer had named were
not the only ones. There were more of such people, and they were on the
premises as well. I heard steps, these coming softly from out in the
hall; then a faint tapping at the door. I myself - I would not let Hendrik
risk his life by answering the door now; the only people who were up to
that task were those willing to kill whoever they saw in front of them
without the slightest hesitation - went to the door, and I opened it a
crack, sword in hand and full-ready to run amok and kill whoever or whatever
was outside the door.

Yep. Reckon that's a messy business when your 'Kill-Switch' is engaged.

Chapter 36: Now it can be told...
The smell of burning flesh rapidly became more than either Sarah or I could
endure, and as we made ready to leave the town by the way we had come, I
could plainly see stoops that were once barren of all save
dim-burning candle-lanterns now becoming crowded with gawking people.
I did not wish to remain in the area, and the fact that the traitors would no
longer endanger people's lives sufficed for me - or so I thought as we
went down the road at a fast but prudent speed. For some reason, however,
less than a minute after leaving the yard of the town's Public House, I
turned around. We were easily far enough to be hidden from view, or so I
thought.

Chapter 37: "Now it can be told, part two."
"That finally brings me to the last portion," said Hendrik. "Rachel
is up here in the area, but she is currently hidden somewhere in Ploetzee,
which is about the safest place for someone like her in the first
kingdom right now. Where you live now, however, is quite crowded, if
my informants have not exaggerated matters."

Chapter 38: Deep and dark-laid plans
I had the beginning of the 'dead sixth' to myself, and as I paced the
floor of the main corridor just off of the king's hallway, I noted the
truly dead aspect of the place. Before, it had been much more 'alive', but by
killing off the traitors, and then shooting that one particular 'General',
I had accomplished something that I had no idea existed.

"The place is genuinely quiet now," I thought.

Chapter 39: What is this road called?
The remaining dregs of the 'fish emulsion' went in the pot with the
fifth and final addition of boiled distillate, then with frequent stirring,
the other ingredients went in one by one. The new measurer proved its
worth here, as did the new funnel; and once the pot was starting to cook
over a turned-downheating lamp - Hans was listening carefully to everything
I said about his 'new' process, so much so that I wondered just how
long he'd retained that witch-thinking that was supposedly so common to
chemists. The answer I got startled me.

Chapter 40: What is this road called? continued.
I came to the shop and began molding in the light of the titanium lantern once
I'd gotten a forge started, and by the time the others began filtering in
about half an hour after dawn, I'd molded not merely the lathe parts we had
patterns for - the bed, the carriage, and the bottom portions of both
headstock and tailstock - but also, I'd done up several more molds for
camp-ovens. Among those molds, however, here and there, I'd put an occasional
'Finnegan bomb' casting, these using a new and somewhat larger pattern;
and when the others came in the shop to do their usual 'morning routine',
I kept doing those bomb-casings and their tight-packed green-sand cores
when and where I could find room for them in the flasks.

Chapter 41: What is this road called? part three.
While I wondered if Hans and Anna had eaten, I soon found that not merely
had they not done so, but that one of the things that had come back with
them from the Public House was a fresh crock of herring. That being the
quickest and easiest 'edible' meal at this time of year, they had gotten
some; and within minutes, we had a crowded table and a profound aroma of
salted and smoked fish in the air. Again, I noted a difference in taste
compared to what I recalled of these fish.

Things get a bit interesting here. Note that the term 'invest' as used
here is not the type one does with stocks, bonds, and securities. It has an
entirely different meaning, that being 'taking' a place. As in killing
whatever is lurking inside of it in the process, and in this instance, dealing
with a lot of spirits.

Chapter 42: Investing the Abbey, part one.
Roos showed up but ten minutes or so later, and while the two buggies came
into the yard of the Public House, I took one of the still-lit lanterns
in hand and rode to the shop at Jaak's 'walk'. I suspected he needed time
to cool down, and once in the shop's yard, I slid off and went straight
to the door while he commenced drinking at the shop's long watering trough.
I left the doors wide, thinking he might follow me, and as I used
the small lantern - I was glad for its brightness, now, as it helped
me find the casting flasks by seeing them rather than tripping over them -
I wondered which of them had those smaller castings. There were a lot of
those wooden 'boxes' sitting in the rear yard; and while none of them
were 'smoking warm', the air still felt a good deal warmer in the yard
than out in the fields and forests.

Chapter 43: Investing the Abbey, part two
Going up the back way meant for two side-by-side at a time up those
zigzag stairs, and I paused to go to the privy as we came to the
juncture of the hallways on the ground floor. I listened for an instant
just before turning right, and heard soft snoring. The sound and the
rhythm were those of Gabriel.

Chapter 44: Investing the Abbey, part three
So much remained to do, and that in so little time, that I wondered if
I would have time to get a nap; or so I thought as the four of us went
down into the basement after dinner had been 'downed' and the dishes put to
soak. The glue was still more or less warm, so much so that once I showed
how to 'fit' the dowels, it took but minutes to put them in the remaining
bombs. I then riveted Sarah's scabbard, only in her case, I did not
merely rivet the back-strap on for her belt; I put rivets in a number of
key places, all the while seeing odd expressions play across her features.
She seemed to be wondering what, exactly, I was trying to do.

Chapter 45: Investing the Abbey, part four
Hearing about a bird that tasted like tar and burned like a smoky torch was
a sufficient distraction that I did not notice the Abbey when it first hove
into sight. It was still miles away when Sarah spoke of it.

Chapter 46: Investing the Abbey, part five
I suspected that Katje speaking of rats being a primer was indeed the
truth, for when I next examined a hollow under the workbench, I found not
merely three mummified dead rats, but also the well-gnawed body of a spider;
and when I looked up, I noted Sarah holding her rat-club as if she expected
to use it. I was more than a little surprised when something 'leaped' at
her from seeming nowhere and she swung on the thing - which sent
it flying my way. I dodged it as the stunned rat flew head-over-paintbrush
tail in my direction to bounce on the bench-top and then slide off to hit
the floor with a thud.

God help you if you ever see one of THESE things!

Chapter 47: Investing the Abbey: The end of Iggy
The first part of the 'true prize' that showed was a glossy stippled
gray-blotched black piece of 'plastic', then as I continued digging into
the sawdust with my awl, I noted its outline. It was far too familiar to be a
coincidence.

Uh-Oh. A huge DESMOND. A big CURSED desmond. Nothing works on it, 'cept
one person's tricks. He got the Mojo Hand.

Chapter 48: Investing the Abbey: Desmond Alley.
While the others were indeed messy, Sarah led me to that one office.
There, I was surprised to find not merely those things that I had seen
before, but also a small wooden bucket and a jug padded well with rags nestled
inside it.

Chapter 49: Investing the Abbey: "This is a Tosser!"
Sarah and I did not have to wait long: by the time we had bathed, our
first changes of clothing had dried, and with those on and the privy dug
in a different spot - its new site needed rearranging two of the buggies,
which I did readily - the first of our escapees began returning. All of
them had strange and unreadable expressions upon their faces.

Chapter 50: Investing the Abbey: Fire and Explosions
As I looked Gabriel over, Karl, Sepp, and Maarten came out of the two
offices nearest where he had dove for the floor, and Karl began walking
slowly down the hall toward where the pistol had finally landed. I could
hear him counting, this slow and hesitant as he moved around over a
fairly sizable area of hallway; then as I looked over Gabriel's back -
there was a fresh rip in the cloth of what he was wearing, but otherwise, he
seemed unhurt - Karl yelled.

Chapter 51: Investing the Abbey, part ten
Our path outside was a lengthy one, one of coughing, spitting, retching,
and occasional dripping of blood. While Sarah had indeed sliced on
several people = including Katje, surprisingly; she had a slice in her
cleaning suit nearly a foot long that was edged with blood - she had been
surprisingly 'gentle' in her cutting, so much so that when I saw the
bloody rent in Gabriel's trousers she had made, I muttered, "that's
about as bad as what happened to Lukas down in the fifth kingdom house."

Chapter 52: Investing the Abbey: "It is not widdershins."
The first sign of the trouble mentioned was a vaguely sulfurous scent in
the air, then as I passed a cross-passage, I noted what looked like the
feeble glow of low-burning embers. I came to a stop, then without thinking
I stepped on something that gave out a feeble screech. Backing away, I knelt
down, and squeaked, "a spider, though... What happened to its legs?"

Chapter 53: Investing the Abbey: Into the light from a forest of
night.
The ground floor still arrived none-too-soon, and once arrived there,
I had to set down my own burdens and rest for a short time. The intimation
I felt, however, was that we needed to go to that large room now known
as 'The Upper Alley' to unburden ourselves, and as I led the
group out of the maze of hallways, there were comments about how 'clean'
the place was now compared to our first times of walking inside it.

Chapter 54: Investing the Abbey: Into the light from a forest of night,
continued.
The moans I made soon drew Hans, followed by Anna, and while I tried to cover
myself up with what soap-suds that I had managed to create on short notice
using the Fell's soap Karl had brought, I found that my arms were solid black
and blue all over - while the rest of me was not much better for appearances.
I had not seen this before, not once, not ever; and where I was not bruised,
I was either cut or I had severe abrasions.

Chapter 55: Investing the Abbey: "Such Treasures these, that..."
Perched upon the couch was a near-cubical cage of soldered brass wires
nearly two feet tall and the same for width, with a covering of torn-up
worn-out rags covering its bottom and a thick and well-clawed wooden 'dowel'
setting in holders that were roughly in the middle of the cage. This dowel
had a singular occupant: a bird of such brilliantly yellow plumage that
it seemed a small and immobile feathered sun. I almost wished I had dark
goggles like I used to have, that I could more closely view a bird seemingly
made of molten and sparkling gold. It made for a strange word, one which was
a tongue-knotting convulsion in the language of the area's common speech.

"That thing's got to be fluorescent yellow!" I gasped.

Chapter 56: Investing the Abbey: "Such Treasures these, that..."
continued.
The next shelves showed things other than 'glossy advertisements', which
seemed surprising to me, at least until I found under the flung-aside dusty
cloth - a cloth that went to rags as I flung it, and it landed in unraveled
threads growing dusty upon the filthy floor - a number of things, these
individually wrapped in their own armors of rags. These, unlike the covering
sheets, had a much-different appearance - one that looked as if generations
of moths had seen them as choice meals.

Chapter 57: Investing the Abbey: "Such Treasures these, that..."
part C
What Sarah had been removing from its 'hiding place' was yet a mystery,
even after shining my lantern's light down into the darkness to the right
of the typing table. I reached down after handing her my lantern, and felt
the cold chill of metal, then somehow, my groping fingers found a fold-down
carrying handle, grasped it - and then lifted the thing up and out to set
it down with a clank and a soft groan of pain.

Yep, one o' these things here. One nasty Compression-ignition engine,
complete with a total absence of any muffling. It's a fetish, and when you
run one of these, you need to be a strong witch, know the correct chants, their
proper order - and, above all: you must chant like you mean it, which means
absolute maximum volume. Got it? You must yell at this thing the entire
time it is operating or else it will blow you to bits, as it runs by spirits
more than all else!

Chapter 58: Investing the Abbey: The advent of the Hand-Howitzer.
The third rumbling scream of metal dragging on the rough floor of the
spade-filled room was both longer in duration and worse for noise compared
to both of the first two times, and when I had removed that third box
and was returning, this to either be scattered by mines or retrieve
something we could really use, I wondered as to how to actually open
the three sizable and sturdy metal boxes. They reminded me more than a little of
some ammunition cans I had once used for toolboxes long ago, though these
containers were both heavier by far and significantly larger.

It's got that name for a reason - chiefly as these are large pistols
with very substantial recoil. So they weigh nearly three pounds each.
They will still make your hands go numb if you fire them.

Chapter 59: Investing the Abbey: Now we have rockets
Rat number two, once it had been 'admired' briefly as it lay bleeding,
needed another four men to drag it to the steps, where the first group
helped get it out of the place; and then, it was the turn of the monstrous
animal Sarah had shot repeatedly. Her hands were not sore now, even if
my arms felt sore enough for me to rub them carefully; and when I noted
the still-cocked weapons Katje had laid on the floor with a rag beneath them,
I showed Sarah how to make them safe: remove the magazine, work the slide
- I caught the ejected round both times, which surprised me more than a
little - and then check the chamber while holding the slide open against
the surprisingly strong recoil spring. Only then did I 'dry-fire' the weapon,
and after topping up its magazine, I reinserted it into the butt of the pistol.

Chapter 60:Investing the Abbey: Now we have rockets, continued.
A brief check of the rocket showed it to be indeed solidly 'together',
and I wondered as to what lay under the small black cap at the tip of
the warhead. Sepp cautioned me, however, saying, "there are these things that
come out when you unscrew that cap there, and they are hard to put back
up so you can get the cap on."

Chapter 61:Investing the Abbey: "What? A radio?"
With a jug of beer handy - Katje was keeping the others busy somewhere
nearby, as I could hear her voice clearly amid faint complaints of fatigue
and other matters - the three of us took the last of our loads to the
northeast corner of 'The Upper Alley', that being the place where I had
previously spread out those 'waterproof cloths'. My old groundsheet,
as well as my 'new' one, were both dirty and had 'loot' on them; and
I wanted to learn firsthand of the wear-resistant aspect of these
articles of cloth. While I knew there were more cloths like this in some
other locations on the premises, I thought it best to learn of their toughness
and ability to endure 'real use' with what Sarah most likely thought of
as 'Tossers' and 'Rag-Stock'.

Chapter 62: Investing the Abbey: "Behind door number five,
we have..."
With aches legion and scarce-stifled groans, we returned to the long-room,
dodging wheelbarrows and their rumbling like as we went to the room furthest
to the east. This was the realm yet of darkness, with dust still piled thickly
in many places; and our path to this door was the furthest yet from the outer
door. No persons, save for Sarah and myself, had gone down this way yet, for
the floor showed in its thick and colorful dusting of ashes mingled with
streaks of rust two sets of bootprints, one large, and one small; and both of these
boots showed hobnails, these still sharp, still pointed, and very numerous.

Chapter 63:Investing the Abbey: "Behind door number five, we
have..." continued
I got the beer spoken of, even though my curiosity would not wait past
the middle of the second cup in spite of forcing the stuff down against
a protesting stomach; for I had not merely questions about quolls, trees,
and bags - I had a question about the intended uses of these two weapons.
I received the second question's answer first.

Chapter 64:Investing the Abbey: the last of the rooms' treasures
The bags, thankfully, were not as a rule tied with 'grandmother's' knots,
and therefore those that were tied that way received attention from Karl or
Sepp. The only person who needed 'help' with the rest of them - as well as
one of my 'spare' awls - was Maarten; and with the passing of the minutes
while we unloaded these various satchels, their contents became obvious:

Ammunition tins, these of brass or what might be unusually thick gold-toned
'brushed' aluminum, depending upon their shape - with the brass ones being
round, as a rule, and the 'aluminum' ones square with rounded corners.
All of them were covered in string-tied rags, and every single example's cloth
covering was greasy enough to be altogether unpleasant for me to touch.

A batch of smaller - perhaps the length of my outstretched hand for their
upper diameter, and an inch smaller for their bottoms, with the shape being
somewhat squatter than the 'pots' which went to those mess-kits I now made
in batches of five to eight - hand-raised tinned copper pots, these sized
such that they nested one inside another with a thin layer of grease-suffused
rags for padding and with greasy brass bails that somehow didn't get in the
way of one another. I wondered as to the why of 'grease' on copper and tin
until I thought to wipe the grease off a small area with a rag still damp
with the Rooster totem's gun-lubricant, and then noted 'new' copper and bright
shiny tin. The bails had but slight corrosion, and most of that
wiped off readily when I tried one of the rags padding the whole nest of five pots.

Chapter 65:To Arms... To Arms... What are these things?
The bird had thus far been silent in Maarten's hands, and indeed, the nature
of this unnaturally tall arch-roofed down-sloping hallway with its
close-seeming walls of reddish-brown brick and tan mortar made for
an awful silence, save among those not overawed by it. My mind was
upon traps, even if the gritty floor beneath my boots seemed to lack them
utterly; and my hand was reaching for the key to make certain of its
continued presence. While I could speak to this door, using the key was
both easier and wiser, for the key required no effort upon my part, and
that one witch had had a hand in rigging this place.

Chapter 66:To Arms... To Arms... What are these things? part B
Leaving the aborted tunnel behind, we now continued on toward the east.
My small 'music box' received a consultation from time to time; here, we
found more of those dust mounds. Two more of those 'good' Tosser pistols
showed, as well as a blackened 'poke-knife' of a type that Sarah recognized
from a tapestry. She said it wasn't a fetish - Rachel had picked up one
like it on the trip south, and had written about it on that one tapestry
she'd bathed for - and while it wasn't quite as good as a Vrijlaand blade,
it had proved itself a decent knife on the rest of the trip, according to Sarah.

Chapter 67: The final problems...
I began to consult the first sheaf of papers, now looking for field
telephones - and while I did not find those listed as being in the room,
I did find two bins filled with packaged sharpening stones. Fetching one
of the bins having them showed the contents of each cloth package to be
five in number, with two stones closely resembling those in the medical
chest at home and the other three of progressively coarser grits. All of
them, however, were both accurately-dimensioned and without chips, and
one package went in my possible bag, while Sepp and Sarah each selected
another - or so I thought until Karl bagged up two more.

Chapter 68:Into the maze of darkness.
Sarah's notes, when she read them to me as I went into what once had
been a maze and was now a collection of tall stacks of boxed materials
that I seemed to implicitly know where much of what we needed could be found,
this while blindfolded, made less and less sense as I heard her read it.
I was homing in upon first those boxes of 'Tosser' pistols the witches
had been rifling, and when I came to the first of those dust-mounds I
had pointed out, I consulted the marks I had made on the map.

Chapter 69:The maze, while less dark, is still very much a mystery.
In traveling clockwise around first the remainder of the north wall and then
the west wall of this huge room and picking up that which we had earlier put
against the walls, we not only put piles of 'loot' on all of the carts being
towed, but I learned another matter, even as I now needed to clear a path
through the jagged-edged tungsten shot that had been scattered all over the
floor. I was really wanting a broom of some kind in places where the shot
impeded our travel, and more than once, I halted the column to look
- fruitlessly - for just such an implement. Only when we were past the last
of the guns and coming upon the first of the long rows of
bolted-together cabinets, these mostly closed and locked, did I think to
look once more.

Time for some machine-gun work - with a weird broom, no less.
Best move over, Rover, and let Jimi take over. Need music? Put on
"Are you Experienced?" That's the soundtrack to this stuff.

Chapter 70: Loading up...
Sepp was as good as his word, as he had been cooking up something on that
stove as we talked. What Sarah had brought me had been cooking on another
stove entirely, and while the 'porridge' she brought - sweetened heavily
with honey - was both tasty and helping, Sepp's 'masterpiece' helped even
more. I soon found out what Sarah had been using, that being one of those
small pots we'd found earlier and one of those pocket-sized stoves.

Chapter 71: Loading up, continued. >
Once the gloves were in place - they had surprisingly intricate
labyrinth-type seals hidden under the places where they laced onto
the arms of the suit - Sarah put my 'faceplate' in, and Katje put
on my boots. I was feeling 'warmer' and 'healthier' by the minute,
and within a few minutes, I asked, my voice now surprisingly
tinny and quiet-sounding, "how do I eat in this?"

Chapter 72: Loading Up, Part three.
"I think that to be our answer, then," said Sarah. "I did not do that
while I was escaping from the second kingdom, at least until I was up
in this area, as the second kingdom and the southern third of the first
seldom leaves a field its corners for wayfarers, and the only thievery
allowed in most areas is that of witches."

Chapter 73:Loading Up, Part four.
Sepp had been busy during this time of speech, and as we turned to go to
our next stop, he showed me something else, this with a clearly-visible grin.
The roughly-spherical screw-and-nail studded item seemed an enigma, at
least at first, as I could see a whitish ball of that less-smelly
explosive at its center.

Thunder-eggs, anyone?

Chapter 74: Loading Up, Part five.
"And I'm wanting some tactile labels so I don't get confused with this thing,"
I muttered - though I could tell those were just up ahead in one of the
pallets. "Shouldn't that be, uh, tactical?"

Chapter 75: Loading Up, Part six.
Sarah had put her pistols back in her pockets, and as we finished gathering
up such materials as looked likely from the area, I led along the aisle
somewhat further. I could feel another matter, this being something we
needed badly; and when I turned to the right, I knew what came next after
what these next things were.

Chapter 76: "Are we finished loading yet?" "I hope so..."
"There are a lot of dead witches, aren't there?" I asked as the last of the
thundering cannon-volleys subsided into the still-ongoing spattering crackles
of musket fire. The entire 'quarter' or whatever this region was called was
now 'turning out', this for hunting down the sooted-up and blood-dripping
survivors of the huge swarm of witches that had so suddenly burst forth
from an 'unknown' source.

Chapter 79: That one special alcove >
Our trip back to where the others had remained at their labors was sufficiently
slow that I wondered if we would ever get there, for Sarah became lost more
than once and I needed to guide her nearly the whole distance. In the process,
however, I made further notes as to matters pertinent to our future upon the three
pages of the map; and now and then, when it was possible to merely follow
behind Sarah - not often; she was too heavily 'burdened' to use a compass, and
we were far enough from the lights for my eyes to be the only ones to see them
- I looked at the single larger 'cannon' round I had retained. It made me
wonder about that short piece of belted ammunition that had turned up weeks
ago, and more...

Chapter 80: Noise? You Call this Noise?
I had more than just stair-climbing to do, I learned: the others, for the
most-part, had stacked bags along the outer width of the staircase when
they could not carry them forward fast enough. Sepp was still ahead of
me, passing bags to someone else, who was most-likely Katje if I went by
the occasional plainly-audible sneezes. I wondered just how much work
she'd be good for, at least until I came to the bottom boundary of Sepp's
'stashed' bags and began handing them up to Sepp, this now with no running
on his part.

Chapter 81:Noise? You Call this Noise? (part two) >
Another shapee, then a third one; and here, space beckoned, wide-open space
that had me searching with the 'torch' so as to find the wall and stay
the specified distance from it, this so as to stay clear of trouble. I
could tell there were other carts full of rubbish in the area, and my thinking
was that said rubbish needed to find other places to roost in, like the jugs
of wine and strong drink the escaping witches were fortifying themselves with;
a drunken state so needed by these terrified people, as they dealt with the terror of
night-flight against an oncoming army of hardened thugs at their backs and a
waiting assortment of nearly-as-hardened assailants at every direction of the compass.

Here ends the longest book (thus far) of the series. I doubt there will be
more books of such length, but I have been wrong before. I hope that you
enjoyed its' nightmarish aspects, as those are but a harbinger of that
which awaits you, the reader.

This book here, though...

It deals with sailing, thugs, an Island of people more dead than alive,
more thugs, strange people, mind-reading hardware - "the transducer shows
presence... You have level five aquisition..." more thugs, really nasty thugs,
irate pirates, blue-suited thugs that would make any sane man wish they
were bad police, and thugs that belong in a trio of truly evil
movies. Oh, and an Idol . Must watch oneself around animated idols
run by mind-reading computers.

Chapter 1:Nightmare convoy - or is it only a night-time sojourn
into hell?
The silvery third-kingdom lantern, turned down, had provided our light
while Maarten had spoken the blessing over the Abbey, tearing it away from
its former dedication to Brimstone; and now, we would return to our labors.
Our small column - nearly a dozen, actually - came into that huge room we
knew as 'The Upper Alley', and Sarah pulled upon my 'suite' near where my
shirt would normally be, this while we still were in the relative darkness
behind a thick column at the rear of the room.

"You two will need to cloak up," said Willem. "I can feel some witches about,
and not all of 'em is trying to leave. Some o' those fools are trying to sneak
into the camp so as to cause trouble."

Chapter 2: "Is it daylight yet?" "No."
The lights drew steadily closer, and for some reason, I looked toward the
west. Today had been another one of those 'extended' days, and tonight,
I hoped, would be equally extended. I was tired, yet more work would need
doing before I slept, and for some odd reason, I was glad I had given Sarah
the shotgun.

There were some creatures of an edible nature - birds, to be exact - that at
this stage of their development did not know if it was day or night. It made
for a most-uncomfortable reminder, one of a supposed nightmare put to music,
and such thinking jolted me.

Chapter 4: "Is it daylight yet?" "No." (continued)
As was usual for me, I filled up quickly; and while Anna took longer to eat
than I did, she finished quickly also. She then went upstairs with what
looked like one of the smaller pots, then as I began to put my mask back
on, she came down the stairs and said, "she's asleep."

Chapter 5: A multitude of surprises
After I finished the rifles, I then began to use my awl to put oil to
the pistols. After dosing each weapon, I prayed silently, rag in hand,
and then began wiping them. For some peculiar reason, I was finding so much dirt
and grime showing on each pistol when I wiped it that by the time I had
gotten each of the pistols 'clean', I had a rag so filthy that Anna needed
to fetch me a clean one when I took up another pistol. The dirtied rag
went into the now-sizable pile I had made cleaning the rifles of the others.

Chapter 6:The Big Gun
I could now clearly feel the press of time, even with nothing to tell its
passing present, and minutes later, I finished rubbing Sarah's head. She
then went upstairs and came down with some obviously 'new' stockings, and
put them on, this with a degree of care that astonished me.

Chapter 7:We shall work as we are able, and labor as we ought...
I lifted up the rifle from the cloth spread under it as one last concussion
seemed to slap me from the right, and I turned toward the source of it
to see Sarah. She was holding that one rifle I had used earlier in the
evening, and she seemed to be muttering about strange sights. How I knew
this beyond seeing her lips move was a minor miracle, as I now noticed
not merely the weight of the rifle, but also, the smoldering aura of fire
seeming to have spread itself abroad in the land.

Chapter 8:I needed that dose
Anna must have heard Sarah's talk about dosing me before anything, as she
first 'dosed' me with a sudden quickness that prevented me from objecting
in the slightest, then but an instant later, she was plying me with
beer. Again, this was to get what she had dosed me with 'down' and
'doing its work' quicker, and as I got up shakily, this after two full
cups of beer, she looked at the jug.

Chapter 9: "Is it a night yet?"
Anna 'vanished', while I resumed my seat after putting out the brass rivet
wires and that one file I used for 'finishing off' the rivets, as well
as the washers and punches I would need for the handle's rivet-wires.
My 'riveting' hammer, I laid out, all of this in order, then as I went
back to the table to resume drawing, I saw an obvious-looking bag.

Chapter 10:I guess this is a night, for tomorrow, we must labor...
I came to myself, a 'cold one' in my hand, shaking and shuddering on a stool,
the sticky taste of honey about my mouth, and Anna standing next to me, her
head slowly shaking as she surveyed first the mess upon our battle-scarred
table, and then, her chalk-white hands slowly turning the pages of my ledger.

Chapter 11:Ride like the wind...
Awakening was slow, painful, and I stifled a groan upon moving my legs,
but the hustle and bustle below me spoke of me being the last to waken.
I was soon apprised of my misjudgment when I actually came down the stairs.

Chapter 12:"When it rains, it rains hard."
We assumed a meandering single-file path as we came closer to the gate,
and seeing me in greens caused both of the 'armed' guards to raise the
gate without comment. Trying to imitate someone like me, someone riding 'a big
black one' without harness or saddle, tall, broad-shouldered, long dark hair...

Chapter 13: In the king's chambers, they gather... "This is no
feast! This is trouble!"
"Did I know the war-cries of Veldters, I would scream them right now," said
Sarah, as she fetched the smallest jug I had ever seen - or so I thought until
I noticed that it was one we had 'looted' from the Abbey, and was
not of ceramic, but plastic. Its seeming 'handle' was a wide leather strap,
and its cover, a carefully-sewn cloth portion, one made with blackened brass
grommets laced with some of that thin 'rope' knotted at the free ends.
The whole ensemble looked well made, well-thought-out, and very secure
both from a retention standpoint, and probable 'observation' aspect.

Chapter 14: A time of sorrow and lamentation
The time of nightmare did not descend as I had feared, at least it had not done
so yet. Hendrik again shook his head, this showing a seeming obliviousness
that I thought more a matter of 'he has had far too much to hear in far too
short a time' than all else. I then learned he had gotten something out of
the matter, as he went over to that one lectern with its dangling boarded
sides and its numerous riveted padlocks dangling from a multitude of hasps.

Chapter 15: A greater woe...
I found that while I needed to occasionally ask Sarah to look at 'tailor's
markings' when I found something that I reckoned an alien language - one which
required both an alien mind and alien anatomy to speak and comprehend - I
also learned quickly that I seemed to know more about these trousers than
the rest of those gathered in the room otherwise. Within perhaps two minutes,
I had not merely given a description of everything I had found that I could
'decipher', but also had finished examining the trousers. The next was the turn of
the 'shirt', and here, matters became 'revolting'.

Chapter 16:"I see that toe..."
I set my buckets down at the bottom of the stairs on the second floor, this
some four or five feet out. I could really feel the need to hurry, so much
so that I was about to start back up the stairs when Sarah came with her two.
She set them down beside me, then said, "best that you stay and guard
matters. The three of us can get those carts readily."

Chapter 17:Es Dié da Muerté, Cabroni! Saluté!
The clock now roosted in my ears, but after perhaps four ticks, I suddenly knew
it was 'time', I removed my hand from the pendant. The cloud came up away from
us with a roar and we found ourselves somewhere on a grass-filled downslope,
a steady mutter and rumble somewhere to our rear, while the light of early
morning washed over us from the west. I turned around, there to see a sea of
fire billowing thick black smoke and terrible red, yellow, green, and orange
flames, and as I watched, a series of muffled booming noises tossed huge chunks
of metal out of the fire to land with terrible clanging noises on the
soot-blanketed road some distance to our rear.

Today you die, you witches - you and your smelly town, it's going to
hell, and you all will go with it.

Chapter 18:This is the kingdom house proper...
We had barely managed a hundred feet further from the house and were moving as
fast as we could among running mobs of street-repairers when the witch-house
exploded so hard that everyone present - ourselves included - was pelted with
showers of coins. I personally was clouted with no less than five gold monster
coins, while the yells of Sarah, Annist&aelig, and Deborah were a near-constant
refrain until we had gotten out of the beaten zone of that mess. I was rubbing
my head a great deal, and when I looked in my lap, I gasped.

Chapter 19:Boom-times have come again
The door worked for Annist&aelig, much as I suspected it might, but when it
clicked open easily for Sarah, I said, "no time like the present.
Deborah, show Sarah where that lock needs oil, and I'll dose the hinges with my
oil-vial and an awl."

Chapter 20:The road to Ploetzee
I had never been to this town named Ploetzee, even if I had heard a great
deal about it from either people who had lived there, or those who had
visited it; and once we'd left the 'dread zone' behind - our systematic
reduction of that eight-house stretch had been watched by a great many
citizens, who had stayed out of our way while we were doing business; now,
the booms of muskets seemed to follow intermittently in our wake as we left
the edges of the town - I felt it wise to reload our magazines and make
our weapons safe once we'd gone half a mile further, past the damage done
by the witches when they had initially attempted to rebuild the Swartsburg.

Chapter 21:The land of the ever-blooming Krokus...
Rachel walked up the corridor, then over to the counter, where I recalled
we were due to receive two jugs of beer. While she spoke of the mess to
the publican - who did not seem surprised; she spoke of one of the town's
residents shooting someone by 'sound' with his roer during the first part
of the night and then having a portion of his stoop scattered by a bomb of
some kind - Sarah and I each had not merely refills of our cups ready, but
also two cold jugs of beer. I knew that Sarah would be glad for the jugs,
but once she'd put them in the buggy, she mentioned where we needed to go
next. She then showed me the piece of paper hiding underneath her jug with
a map drawn on it.

Chapter 23: A long trip 'cross country'.
This time of harnessing horses went surprisingly fast - my hands were
learning their business - and not two minutes later, we were traveling
north along the wharf. The amount of wharf-work was surprising, and while
every person present that I could see was armed with at least a revolver,
to my surprise, I saw first one cannon, then another, and three men standing
by them. They were sited on a stone-topped rise to our left with a
smoothly graded path leading up to it, and sited so as to fire more
or less 'downstream' at a raking angle. The platform was rimmed in front
and to the sides, for secure footing.

Chapter 25: The Kingdom of Boom
As I rode east, this at a sedate-seeming pace, a pace that matched that
of those to each side of me, I could feel the state of the town's houses
and shops. Right now, the aspect of industry in the general area was such
that the only people in most of the houses were women and perhaps one or
two children, these last either busy helping their mothers or too young
to do much beyond cause their mothers grief in one way or another. I could
feel a number of infants in the town - easily five or more - but for
some reason, even if these children were lively enough, I could not hear any crying.

Chapter 26: The Kingdom of Boom: tanning birds?
However, I soon learned I was not done in that room, even if I was done
with the 'ticker'. I soon found myself dealing with not merely some
batteries that had severe levels of corrosion, but also a rather neglected
line-shaft turned Heinrich generator.

Chapter 27:The Kingdom of Boom: that fellow was stranger than anyone
Once in Willem's supply-room - where I had not noticed much earlier, due to
the need of thumping a fool-hen and then being deafened twice, first when I
saw the bird's nest turned into kindling, then afterward as I saw Sarah
blow feathers off of a just-kicked tumbling bird in some fashion - I now
understood a great deal more. Over in the corners of this room lay numbers
of kegs, and Willem identified those.

Chapter 28: "Homeward bound, and free of... What?"
Our pace seemed inhumanly slow once on this southbound road, so much so
that I wondered just how far it was to the Abbey; and only when it seemed
an age had past, one of those times that seemingly was far too long to be
measured in years, did the place truly heave itself into sight. The horses
were about due for dosing with grain and water, and while the two men worked
on feeding the two animals who had been pulling and then putting into harness
that pair that had been following on leads, I went over each hoof of the five
horses with my hoof-pick, twenty hooves in all, then made sure each of them
got his fill of water. Once back under way, however, I realized the truth of the matter.

Chapter 29: Hah! It's Georg!
Hans returned with Georg not five minutes after I had spoken of the matter,
though what Georg was carrying with him when he came down the steps gave me
the strangest idea imaginable. He was carrying that 'twelve-bore' Remington,
and my immediate response was to put a shell in it - and have him try firing it.

Chapter 30: Waldhuis gets hornets
With the candle-wax being stirred slowly and Paul cutting off pieces of
beeswax and the other waxes with his knife and then stirring the inner pot
of the 'double-boiler' regularly, I was wondering what Georg could do,
now that he had run out of ready-to-melt tin pieces. I suspected he would
keep what lead alloy he had mixed up and hot and then transfer it to Hans'
lead-pot as needed, but after filling that 'full', he pigged the
remaining amount of lead alloy and turned off the heating lamp under
his 'full-sized' pot. He then looked at me.

Chapter 31: Waldhuis gets hornets, continued
As if Esther had been calling Hans to hurry, he arrived out of breath not
two minutes later, and what he had was not a just-cleaned bucket full of
beer and another jug in his hand; he had those, and a thick strap about
his shoulder with two more jugs of beer, for a total of four. He spoke of
a Public House beginning to become busy, but also of Georg laying down
three large silver pieces on the counter and asking for a table with a
view of the door, saying he was waiting for someone of dire importance,
and more, that he would need to leave upon the instant when that person
showed. Hence, he was paying in advance, and more, enough to secure a
'prime' seat in the bargain.

Chapter 32: Our next day
Dawn arrived far too soon, and when I took off my sleeping goggles, I
remembered to bag them in my 'travel bag'. A glance at my brass clipboard,
however, showed not two sheets of paper present, but five; and all of
them writ in a surprisingly legible hand. I had no idea how this had happened,
but I could feel someone coming.

Chapter 33: Class is in session
As I ate, I noted that Karl and Sepp needed to leave their plates frequently
at a run, and I thought to ask Annist&aelig about the matter.

Chapter 34:In Hendrik's Office
On the way to Hendrik's office - it would indeed be a crowded office,
as while most were going for their 'real' breakfasts, I, Esther, Paul,
Willem, Sarah, Annist&aelig, Deborah, Hans, and Anna - would be 'taking our
meals' in there. I quietly asked Deborah regarding this mould as to just who made it.

Chapter 35:"Just like at the west school..."
The number of cleaners present upon the floor was several less than I
recalled seeing, and when I asked as to why, I heard that two more had
fallen dead. They'd been decapitated upon the spot, their heads interred upon
one side of the manure-pile and their naked bodies upon the other side;
and when I heard what had happened to those who had died, I was stunned.

Chapter 36: Getting packed, all right.
Setting out to find such a room took time and effort, and while the
others 'fanned out', I and Sarah worked on sewing up scabbards for knives
and swords. We now had to make one for Gabriel, his such that he could
either wear the thing on his belt or concealed beneath his 'burn-clothing',
and while Sarah spent a certain amount of time sewing up the scabbards,
and I did some time on riveting up the riveted portions of Gabriel's
scabbard, we both spent time altering that one burn-garment she'd somehow
'requisitioned'. I had some odd ideas as to how to cut the thing, chiefly
as allowing extra room in the shoulders and waist.

Chapter 38: We are sent to packing.
In the ensuing hours - the bulk of that first list I had supplied had
long been deciphered, though Deborah was still thumping people on occasion;
she had developed a liking to one of those long green clubs, and getting
her to part with it was no small amount of trouble. I had to tell her that
we would try to return with more of them, or failing that, she could ask
Lukas to secure one for her. As if I had asked for that man himself, he
suddenly showed in our 'secure-room's' doorway, his aspect wobbly, and
his voice indicating he'd driven from the 'leaden fields' to the house
as if out of his mind and the hellhounds hot on his trail.

Chapter 39: New clothing, eh?
Annist&aelig came back a short time later, only instead of her 'makeshift'
clothing, she now had the full suite: clothing much like Anna's, save
cut to fit her; her laboratory coat, this altered to fit better; some
clothing in a bag, which proved to be something similar to overalls;
and then finally, a cleaning apron, one similar to what I had seen Esther
wear when I first saw her. Deborah's clothing was done similarly, but
when I looked Annist&aelig in the clear bright light of 'the white room',
I saw the following.

Chapter 40: Slice!
With the missive inked and put upon a sand-filled 'plate' under a heating
lamp turned down low so as to dry thoroughly in a minimum of time, Sarah
and I were escorted out by Maria. I could tell she would most likely have
new clothing within short order, that or have her current clothing altered
for 'discrete carry' of weapons of one kind or another.

Chapter 41: Slice! Continued.
Since I had now relearned certain matters regarding 'overwhelming odds'
and 'how to think on one's feet while making consistently decent or better
decisions', I now had to retrieve my sword, then go try out Gabriel's
sword. It also helped that now, there were no 'Spooks' handy in the region,
and my suspicion - softly spoken to Annist&aelig - was that the nonsense done
in the last few days had disturbed them enough that they had decided to
play games in their former 'playground'.

Chapter 42:Full steam ahead, and straight on until morning...
Or something like that.
While I had never run up a 'complex' coal-fired powerplant before, this one
seemed easy enough, even though about half way through the process of doing
so Deborah found what looked like a rather unusual 'book-rack', this arranged
so that one could leaf through the thing and learn whatever there was to know
about this intricate assemblage of machinery.

Chapter 43: Such noise this thing makes!
The sensation both physical and mental I had regarding 'food' grew
rapidly greater, both as to my need to eat and also feeling faint
in mind and body, and I was having trouble moving the needle into
the cloth Sarah had laid out for me when suddenly an odor of such
profound potency took over my mind that I dropped everything and
'attacked' the source of this wondrous smell. It was swimming before
my eyes, and I felt as if I were a hungry Iron-Head trout and this
was my customary food. I bit into hungrily, and that without
hesitation, once the thing was within reach.

Chapter 44: The last night, er, nightmare.
Deborah then looked up from where she was gnawing on a toasted
slab of bread covered with cherry jam, and saw the fume hood
nearest where we were sitting drawing the worst of the saw-fumes
steadily upward, and as I saw the smoke in the entire center area
steadily clearing, I knew one particular issue with such saws.

Chapter 45: A fate worse than death...
As I finished my bath, I noted not merely a substantial degree of warmth
present in the general area, but also, a great many hanging sheets, two
of which surrounded me and the other two walls forming my cubicle being
of well-laid masonry. The non-flickering light, I now noticed, was
provided by one of those lanterns we had located earlier, and while
the thing wasn't turned up terribly high - a faint
odor, with light worthy of a small candelabra running good wax candles,
or perhaps four or five good student's lanterns - it wasn't smoking at all.

Chapter 47: Full fathom five, deep water
Once out of the chute, however, the boat slowed, and I found that
the smallest movement of the tiller, this of laminated blackwood
and a whitish wood nearly as hard, both coated with obvious wood-treatment
and then wrapped in the gripping place with a thin species of that
silvery gray rope, caused the boat to respond smartly and with vigor.
It needed a gentle hand, and as I moved into the 'channel', I said,
"Sarah, we don't need to take soundings. I can see the channel,
just like I have, uh, this weird way of telling its depth. I'm keeping
to the deeper place, as up ahead is that one crossing, one where the
witches liked to cross in the past and will try more in the weeks
and months to come."

Chapter 48: The thousand islands
I soon found that while this boat tacked readily, upon passing to the
north of one island - small, heavily wooded, tall trees, dark green due
to a dense growth of brush below the start of the foliage of the trees -
that the wind on the west sides of these places tended to be strong
enough to build up a fairly impressive level of speed quickly. More
importantly, the boat 'coasted' well enough that if I picked my route
carefully between them, I could weave the craft between the closer-together
ones such that by the time it had slowed to a near-standstill, I was
able to catch another 'blast' of wind = and rocket ahead for another
mile or two, and then coast into the west side of another.

Chapter 49: Cold Harbor, or 'how I wish this were Gettysburg,
but it isn't'.
The coast now had a straight run, such that here, I sighted on a point
perhaps eight miles ahead in the darkness and ran with canted sail so as
to catch the wind, our speed now perhaps forty miles an hour. I could
see the beacon fire to the south now with naked eye, though it drew
closer with what seemed agonizing slowness.

note that book five has some months to go before it finishes.
This is but the first of five portions. Hopefully, this portion, as it
lays the groundwork, will not 'grow' as much. After this part, further
'growth' will most likely be significantly less, at least for the next two
sections.

#1: This Page
is under Construction, and will remain so for the foreseeable future.

#2: I'm still
quite ignorant of how web-pages are done. I am learning, though.